


Getting there.

by drinkginandkerosene



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Depression, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, mentions of cutting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 19:16:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drinkginandkerosene/pseuds/drinkginandkerosene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete is trying to get better, and Patrick appreciates the effort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting there.

Realising you spend at least eighty percent of your time planning your own demise is hardly a good atmosphere to create music in.

Patrick looks over at me, worried during breakfast. He knows the signs by now. I can barely hold my head up and I feel like I’m breathing through water, or blood. He talks and I can’t hear him properly. I close my eyes and try to focus.

“-Back to bed.”  
Bed is a pretty solid idea but it’s getting there. It took me enough to get out of it. Joe wanders in and takes one look at me, shaking his head, before pulling me up, wrapping an arm around my waist.   
“C’mon Pete. It’s just a bad day.” Oh. Just? I know other people have bad days, but this, this is a bad life. Just somedays it’s harder to ignore.   
Patrick takes over steering me when I get to my room, knowing I don’t much like anyone being in there. It’s too personal but hell, this is Patrick. He knows me better than anyone, maybe even myself, not that that’s hard to achieve.

He looks around at the dim room, the lyrics scrawled on odd bits of paper, the sketches, the messed up quilt where I couldn’t sleep. The still clean blades next to my bed. He sweeps them into the bin, before holding my duvet open for me to collapse into. He opens the window too, letting some icy winter air circulate. I expect him to leave then, under the guise of ‘letting me get some sleep’ which is code for ‘I don’t want to deal with you’ but he surprises me, something only Patrick is capable of ever doing. He kicks his shoes off, climbing in next to me, wrapping his arms around me, his warmth seeping into my cold bones. Even my body doesn’t want to work.

“I am so, so proud of you.” His voice is soft, murmured, as comforting as anything I’d ever known  
“But why?” I find my own voice is oddly quiet, sounding small in the miserable room.  
“You could have cut. But you didn’t.”  
“I wanted to.”  
“But you didn’t.”  
“Intent is more important that actions.”  
“That’s where you were always wrong Pete. People think the most terrible things. It doesn’t mean they’re bad people.”  
“I’m definitely not a good one.” He catches my face, my eyes still shut and turns it towards him.  
“You’re magic Pete.”  
And he kissed me until I fell asleep, into that quiet place where nothing is complicated and there’s only white.


End file.
